


She Promised Herself

by aquatarius



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Death, F/M, Flushed Romance | Matesprits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 02:36:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5480099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquatarius/pseuds/aquatarius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someday, she’d be hardly able to tell their scents apart, she promised herself. She would smell like him and he would smell like her. They would grow old together in a quiet, peaceful Alternia, fixed by her darling son. The way Mituna held onto her made her actually believe her own prophecies for a few moments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She Promised Herself

  “You’re too good for this world.” Mituna muttered quietly. Porrim smiled to herself for a moment, but didn’t let up the pressure on Mituna’s waist. She forced her expression back into one of slightly annoyance and lifted her head to glower at him. Not strong enough to scare him, but not weak enough to let him think he was off the hook. She pulled away the cloth she was pressing against Mituna’s wound and dumped some alcohol on the wound, causing the psion to wince in pain.

  “I am. Just _what_ were you thinking, charging into a group of highbloods like that?” She asked. Her tone was stern. Mituna winced and looked down at the wound on his torso. For a moment, Porrim feared her tone had been too severe, but Mituna answered quick enough that she allowed that fear to go back to the background murmur that it normally was, along with ‘is everyone was getting enough to eat’ and ‘do we have enough cloth for a new outfit.’ A louder fear, for sure, but ignored for the moment.

  “I was thinking they had my brother. I was thinking they had my best friend. And I was thinking that I was going to do anything in the world to get him back.” Mituna said. His voice was quiet with a strange mix of both shame and anger. Anger at the world and at the highbloods who’d touched his brother. Shame for his actions, so different from what Kankri counseled, so much more violent.“You know that.”

  Porrim stayed quiet because she _did_ know it. She knew it very well and there were times she made the same mistake, when she was younger and Kankri was but a child. Times she couldn’t regret. Because regret might mean she didn’t do what it took to save her little family in the future. So she stayed quiet and worked on his wound.  It was nothing she hadn’t done before. It was easy, routine. A smear of his blood distracted her, however, and that was not routine. How long had it been since she had a meal? , Her gaze flickered for a moment, from his wound to the blood on her hand. A wheezy, snarky snicker made her look up to his face again. He was grinning, the look marred slightly with the pain he was feeling.  His fangs bit into his lower lip when he grinned.

  “You can eat it, if you want. I’ve got blood to spare.” He said. Porrim frowned and went back to tending the wound once more. She didn’t eat it. She didn’t eat her friends, as she’d said time and time again, even when she suffered for it. It was a code of the caverns. You didn’t eat your friends. Mostly because rainbow drinkers couldn’t eat from other rainbow drinkers. But it was a simple code that every drinker followed. It was a principle. She hadn’t left that behind. Everything else she’d left behind, and she didn’t leave that one thing behind, one sharp reminder that she might have been something had she stayed. One that she sometimes regretted but never stood down from.

   She remembered the first time she’d said that in front of Mituna. _“I don’t eat from my friends.”_ The first time her stomach had grumbled after a day without a meal and he offered his arm. How she’d flushed slightly at the sound and how she’d told him that she didn’t eat her friends.  He’d leaned against the wall of the cave they were in and grinned and said _“Well what if I’m more than a friend?”_ She remembered she had slapped him, sharply. How he had screamed and dropped onto his rear and scrambled back and begged not to be hurt. The slap hadn’t even left a bruise.

  The memory of it made her cringe. It had been the first time that she’d really realized how fragile he was. How scared he was. It was the first time she promised herself she would heal him. He had changed so _fast_. From bold and snarky, to a frightened slave who didn’t want their master to hurt them.

  Porrim sighed softly and finished bandaging the wound. She pulled away and looked at the cave wall.

  “I’m done, Mituna. Please be careful. I don’t want that wound ripping open.” She said. Her tone was quiet but firm. Mituna wouldn’t disobey here, she knew. Meulin was close enough to his color that he didn’t fear her. Kankri was Kankri, his brother and his best friend. It was unthinkable that Kankri would hurt him for a disobedience. But Porrim was just high enough to make him scared of her. It hurt like a gaping hole in her pusher. The only consolation she had for herself was that he was not as scared as he’d once been of her. He didn’t flinch quite so often or quite so hard. He wasn’t as afraid to use his psionics against the cooler bloods. He was getting better.

  Mituna sighed quietly and pulled himself up. He grunted and Porrim could smell the slight burning smell that told her he was using his psionics. He couldn’t even stand on his own. Porrim didn’t stop him from leaving the cave, however. He needed to be allowed nurse the small amount of pride that he’d managed to scrape from the bottom of his think pan. Er. Brain. Just enough pride to make himself difficult to deal with on the best days. Not enough to stop him from literally licking food off the floor on the worst ones.

  Porrim watched him limp out of the cave, one of his hands on his bandage. Then she stood up and cleaned up her area, stuffing the left over bandages in a bag, as well as the alcohol she’d used to clean the wound. She inspected the blood on her hands. Not much. Still warm from his body. _What if I’m more than a friend?_ Was that his first time flirting? She lifted her hands and sniffed. It smelled like life and sparks. _What if?_ What if indeed. She lapped at the blood and relished in the taste.

  It tasted like a promise.

* * *

 

  Meulin’s hissing and sputtering echoed in place they’d found to clean off. A small path, cut deep between two mountains by a river. A large, deep, wonderfully cold river. It had been a long few weeks without enough water to bath or even sponge off and bathing was completely mandatory. Kankri was having some difficulty coaxing his lovely and stinking mate into the water. Porrim had left them to work out their issues, and traveled up stream.

  Porrim would’ve sworn that Mituna had gone up here somewhere. He was so insecure about his body. She squinted into the trees and looked over the water. She finally caught a glint of yellow on the ground, from his jump suit. She smiled and quickened her pace.  

  “Mituna!” She called. The wire-thin frame in the water froze. He looked over his shoulder. His shirt was off, revealing a body that was even scrawnier then she’d feared. Worse than it should be, considering the way she’d been half forcing food into him, and scars that deformed him, some twisting up him from bio-wires, some plunging in from helming, and some that were simply the marks of one troll wanting to hurt another. His pants were on, the hem barely visible above the water. His slightly damp hair clung to his head.

  Porrim smiled and bent to pick up the shirt he’d left on the ground. She called out to him, waving. “Do you mind if I join you? I wanted to leave the love birds in peace.” She said. She folded the shirt and set it on a boulder without even thinking about it. Mituna shook his head and started for the shore.

  “Actually, I was just, getting out. Th-sorry.” Mituna didn’t meet her eyes and he half muttered his words, climbing up on the bank. Porrim watched him, her heart sinking. She almost reached out to touch him, but kept her hands still. It would only spook him more. She cleared her throat instead, and turned to face the water. She reached up, and started to undo her dress.

  She slowly slid it off of her body, leaving on a tank top and leggings. She folded it and set it on the boulder with Mituna’s shirt. Her own frame was strong and slightly curvy, little chub left on after sweeps of running around with her family. She walked over to a small place that jutted over a deeper part of the water. She dove in headfirst and came up several moments later and pushed her hair out of her face with a quiet laugh. She swam towards the shore until she could stand, smiling.  

  Mituna was standing still, one hand about to grab his shirt from the boulder and the other holding into the back of his neck. His cheeks were a bright yellow, his forehead creased slightly. He was staring at her. She stood up when the water would come up to just below the middle of her stomach and smiled at him.

  “The water is lovely, Mister Captor. Care to join me?” She asked, extending a hand to him. Mituna swallowed. He slowly drew his hand away from the shirt and took several shuffling steps to the water so his feet were submerged. Porrim smiled and nodded, giving her fingers a little wriggle. “Come on, dear.”

  “Would it be weird to say you’ve got a _really_ great body?” Mituna asked. Porrim held back a laugh. He hated being laughed at. It would not do to scare him off again, she’d already done it once. She shook her head and he stepped in until he was up to his knees.

  “No. It wouldn’t. Although most people just say hot. Am I not hot, Mituna?” She asked, putting the tips of her fingers on her lip. Her other hand remained extended to him. Mituna sputtered and shook his head, waving his hands around.

  “No! I mean, I. I’m not saying you’re, _not_ hot! I’m juthhht. I.” He looked around as if seeking someone to help. Porrim couldn’t help but laugh that time, but she stifled it when he looked at her.

  “I’m just teasing, dear. Come on in.” She said gently. Mituna didn’t look so sure, but he walked in as he had been told, and took her outstretched hand. Porrim squeezed his hand and began to draw him out into the water. It was nearly up to her shoulders by the time she stopped. She lowered herself and closed her eyes, keeping her grip on him.

  Mituna stood still, looking everywhere but her. Porrim supposed she could just say he was her slave if anyone came on them. But no one would and she chided herself for making an escape plan when they were safe. (Planning an escape plan had saved them so many times in the past, however, to many to pretend like it was a skill she should lose.)  She blew a few bubbles and stood up.

  Mituna looked down at her, cheeks heating slightly as his gaze darted to her chest and back up. Porrim lifted an eyebrow and tilted her head to the side. He was adorable sometimes, really. She reached up to take hold of his head, gently, one hand on each cheek, and made him look at her.

  “Take in a breath. Hold it.” She instructed. Mituna obeyed instantly. He kept his breath as she gently lead him under the water. He held his breath for several moments, and the moment that Porrim saw bubbles, she let him up. He was soaking wet and not looking at all pleased. Water streamed down from his hair and he hissed unhappily.

  “I, why would you _do_ that?” Mituna snapped, sparks dancing between his horns.

  “Because you never dip your head underwater if you have a choice. Now you don’t have to, although I would appreciate it if you would. After all, you’re already wet. The rest of the grime needs to be cleaned out.” She said. She kept her hands off him now, waiting for him to freak out or for him to calm down. When she’d met him, he’d have already been freaking out. As he took a deep breath and calmed himself instead, she realized just how much Mituna had calmed down. She smiled and turned to swim out deeper.

  Porrim spent several minutes washing herself, letting the cool water run over her skin and wash away the dirt and sweat of weeks. After she was done, she swam back to Mituna. Mituna was dripping and shivering, looking much cleaner then he had when Porrim had left him. She rewarded him with an approving smile and turned to wade back to the shore.

  Mituna followed and she could feel his eyes on her. She smiled and turned to look at him. He looked up at once, bi-colored eyes focusing very hard on the sky. She chuckled and squirmed into her dress, which still reeked. She’d have to wash clothing later. Until now, she and Mituna could take a nice, slow stroll back to Meulin and Kankri.

* * *

 

  The first time Mituna slept with her, it wasn’t like _that_. Porrim doubted he’d ever be up to doing that. Which was fine with her. She felt no great need to do that.

  It was simple, actually. Meulin and Kankri were already curled up at the end of the cave, and Porrim took his hand and led him over to her bed. They laid down and he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. The purr that thrummed in his throat made her smile, and she purred back, closing her eyes.

  He was more filled out then he had been at the river. He was eating a lot now a days, but using psionics took a lot out of him, and he was usually snacking or sleeping. Everyone in the group had ended up piggy backing him at one point. The task usually fell to Meulin, even though Mituna was much taller than her. He was apparently planning on being adopted by a family of loving bean poles. Meulin carried him easily.

  Mituna was wonderfully warm. His chin was on top of her head, and his arm kept her cooler body close, as if afraid she’d leave him. Porrim wasn’t planning on leaving, but that last time she’d been held this close was when a seven sweep old Kankri had thought she’d left him and ran out in the dusk to find his mother. It was nice to be clung to again.

  Porrim traced small designs on his wrist, and spoke about before she’d had Kankri. What the caverns had been like, what friends and quadrants she had, what the world was like from her view. After a while, she twisted so she was facing him, and pressed her face into the front of his throat and breathed in his scent.

  Someday, she’d be hardly able to tell their scents apart, she promised herself. She would smell like him and he would smell like her. They would grow old together in a quiet, peaceful Alternia, fixed by her darling son. The way Mituna held onto her made her actually believe her own prophecies for a few moments.

* * *

 

  Porrim Maryam, the Dolorosa, didn’t know how many sweeps it had been since she’d lost her family. She didn’t know how long she’d been a slave. First the Orphaner’s slave. Then the Marquis’s slave. Then she’d died, and for a long time, she’d known only black and calm and something that might’ve been content.

  Then a color that was so much darker then black. She gasped and arched as she woke, scrabbling at the ground under her. Her eyes shot open and she saw the brightest, most beautiful color of blue she’d ever seen. Someone stood up, and leaned over her. A hornless, blue eyed being, with the brightest smile she’d ever seen.

  “Hey! You’re awake! Haha, cool. C’mon, up you come! Welcome to the afterlife.” He had said. His name turned out to be John. He was the adopted son of the Condesce, and she hated him for it. She hated him up until the first time he cried in front of her, broke down and sobbed, clutching a picture of a long haired girl to his chest and crying until he wheezed. It was harder to hate someone that had close ties to the empress when you found out how badly she’d broken them.

  It didn’t take long to find another troll. John introduced her to another male named Dave, who introduced her to a lady named Rose. When Rose introduced her to the troll, she hated him, for his horns. They matched the Orphaner’s. But he was not at all like the Orphaner. He had a mate that looked like the Disciple, only thinner and shorter. He didn’t even turn out to come from the same universe Porrim did. That troll introduced her to a curly horned, bright young lady, who in turn, introduced her to the Demoness. The Demoness showed her to Kankri and Meulin.

 It was a very long time until they found Mituna.

  When they did, he was hanging from a helm, caught up in wires and whimpering for the empress.

* * *

 

  The recovery was so slow that it made Porrim’s heart ache. She knew that she was the most faithful. Kankri and Meulin were heartbroken, but they had each other. They also had people to teach and to show the ‘right way’ to do things. Porrim didn’t have that. She was aware that her mind was unstable, and there was times she still dreamed of Her. She always woke up crying. The one time she saw a spider, Porrim had screamed for hours. She wasn’t useful to them anymore. She was 8roken and couldn’t be the mother she once had been.

  But she could be a caretaker, and so she was. Slowly, slowly, she nursed Mituna back. There were times he was very nearly lucid for her. Those were the times that she looked forward to the most, when she would pull his head to her chest and play with his hair and whisper quietly to him. And he’d nod and purr and croon and chirp for her, his eyes half closed as he listened.

  She didn’t know how long it took to get him speaking again. She didn’t keep track of time half as faithfully as she kept track of her family and her psion. But when he did talk for the first time since she had him, she considered it when of the best nights of her afterlife.

  When he kissed her, it was clumsy. Their teeth clacked together. Spittle trailed from his lip. His claws dug into her shoulder, unmindful of his new found strength. He was warm and it almost burned her. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around him and he gripped her like he’d fall down, down, down to the empress’s helm again if he didn’t, gripped her so hard it hurt. It was the best kiss she’d ever had.

  The Condesce had had the psion for billions of sweeps. Porrim had him for eternity and she made good use of her time. She dragged him back to sanity, slow and careful and loving.

  And the night she woke up and inhaled and couldn’t pick apart their scents was the beginning of her own trail back to sanity.


End file.
